Nothing Short of a Miracle
by D.VAncomycin
Summary: Space loves exquisite luck. Inspired by a Prompt from Saturnian Dreamer.


"It'd be a miracle if they were alive."

Harlan's Grandmother had said it a million times over the years, always followed by "But Lord, I'll keep wishing for that miracle." She still dealt with the void of her son's death on a daily basis; to lose his son—her grandson—was too much for an old woman to bear. When she found out from her former daughter-in-law's husband that they had gotten communication with the missing students, and when Harlan himself had managed to contact her in her condo in Los Angeles, she expressed her joy at that miracle in the only way she knew how.

"Boy, I'm gonna wear out that ass when I see you. I don't care how old you'll be when you get back here, I'm going to take my great-grandma's cast iron and leave your ass cheeks screaming."

Harlan burst into laughter.

"Your Daddy used to laugh when I threatened him once he was older and an 'adult'; well let me tell you boy, ask your mother if he was laughing after."

"Oh, I believe you, Grandma. Still, aren't you happy that your favorite grandson is alive and well? Isn't that enough to spare me?"

"Who's my favorite now?"

"Grandma, I'm your only one."

"I've got two dogs that don't run off and get lost in space. You're in third place, boy. Still ripe for a good paddlin'."

"Aww, Grandma. I thought you'd miss me."

"I do. And I thank the good Lord he heard me out and you're safe. But I still owe you this."

"Well," his voice softened, "If it means seeing you again, I'll take it."

"Oh, you're gonna come back here. I won't hear your nonsense otherwise. Hell, come back early; I want to punish you within an inch of your life, but I still miss you. If you can chop a year or two off the trip, I wouldn't be opposed."

"I'll see what I can do," he replied, cutting off the call. When he turned around, he noticed Commander Goddard standing nearby, leaning against an alien tree and shaking his head.

"Looks like you're in for a far worse punishment than the Admiral wants to dole out," he smirked at his student.

Harlan looked embarrassed, "Yeah well, I guess the real miracle is that there's no way we're getting home early with us being grounded like this."

* * *

When the second white circle came, they panicked.

This time, everything had been fine—everything had been working not seconds earlier, no one had powered down any of the drives or engines, fuel was topped off, everything, EVERYTHING WAS FINE, and suddenly, when all hands jumps for their consoles at the sight of the thing, nothing wanted to work.

"Band!" Goddard barked, "Turn us around!"

"I can't! The helm is frozen!"

"Catalina, fix it!"

The engineer slid up next to the helm, ready to pry the repair door open and work faster than she ever had in her life; at the edge of their dimensions, Suzee was ready and on high alert, already barking orders at her which wires and pistons were likely compromised and needed addressing first. She dug her fingertips into the give to the door, and pulled.

And pulled and pulled. No give.

"It's stuck!"

Goddard's frustration mounted as he whipped his head around to Radu.

"Mr. Radu, open the damn thing!"

Radu scrambled to Cat's side and had to put up a damn good fight to pry the usually easily-opened door off. He tossed the panel away, allowing Catalina to shove her hands into the guts of the helm.

"Mr. Bova," Goddard continued, "Have the engines ready for a hyperjump once we have control."

Bova hustled over to the engineering console, pressed a few buttons, then sighed.

"Figures."

"What figures?" Harlan asked.

"Console is frozen out. Nothing's working."

This was like a bad dream. Goddard wanted to scream.

"Rosie, re-route the commands through your station."

"I…I just lost power to my station," she muttered, knowing the Commander was on the verge of full anger.

As if to punctuate Rosie's news, one by one, every console in the compost shut off; to add insult to injury, the deep sound of the hyperdrive powering down sounded throughout the ship, like a haunting melody from years ago.

There was a moment of silence as they all looked at one another in disbelief.

"Thelma!" Goddard bellowed, eager for an explanation.

For the first time ever, she did not appear at his shoulder to scare the daylights out of him.

"THELMA!"

No android.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

The ship shuddered against the gravitational pull of the white circle.

Davenport burst into the command post. "Why did I hear the engines power down and why can't I find Thel—"

The sight of the white circle on the viewscreen made tunnel vision creep in. Three years prior, she knew she'd have been on the floor.

"Seth, what…?"

"Cat, leave the helm to me and get to the engine room and figure out what's going on there," he cut her off. He thrust a compupad into her hands. "T.J., see if you can figure out how to override the problems with the consoles, or at least see if you can figure out from the ship's computer why this is all happening."

Catalina left for the engine room on the double as Davenport tried to work her way into the computer system with shaking hands.

"Bova, find Thelma," Goddard continued to pass out orders.

"It's impossible to get in," T.J. chimed in, voice filled with horror.

"C'mon, T.J., I've seen you access thousands of systems before. Focus."

"You don't understand," she spat at him, "It's not LETTING me in."

He was taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"Algorithms I know worked before—since I learned them while in the ship's computer—are suddenly unresponsive. The Christa is physically keeping me out."

He blinked. It made perfect sense. Everything that had happened thus far was possible.

The Christa didn't WANT them to escape.

Writing on the wall, he ordered the crew to brace, with Radu and Harlan sandwiching themselves on the floor by the helm with an increasingly upset Rosie between them. Noting that the ship was on the event horizon of the singularity, he grabbed T.J., forcing her to the floor with him, covering as much of her flesh with his own as he could.

It was much the same as last time, with them all stunned and splayed about, though considerably less thrown about since their last encounter. They helped one another off the floor, looking dazed and distressed. They had been halfway home—all that progress, dashed. Shocked silence hung in the air as Seth surveyed the room, still holding Davenport as reality caught up to her and sent her trembling. Someone had to break the stun, and it fell on him to do it.

"Everyone okay?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," Rosie stuttered, "I mean, everyone is okay and…we've lost all progress!" The Mercurian burst into tears. "We worked so hard!"

Radu and Harlan both fussed over her like big brothers, trying to soothe her as she wept and began to glow pink in frustration. Catalina and Bova both found their way to the compost, faces long.

"We didn't manage to avoid it, did we?" Bova asked.

Harlan shook his head.

"Well, shit."

"We regroup," Seth said, mustering up as much confidence into his voice as he could, "Screen on."

A swath of space melted onto the screen; it was beautifully calm, given the brewing turmoil in their command post.

"Mr. Radu, any idea where we might be?"

The Andromedan squinted at the screen, taking in the multitudes of stars before them. After a moment of thinking, his eyes widened.

"Sector 1, inner frontier space."

Seth felt T.J.'s grip on his arm tighten. "You're sure?"

"Positive. If the station is back check my—"

The communications panel signaled a return to life with the warning of incoming transmission. Rosie composed herself quickly to switch it onscreen.

A uniformed Uranian came onscreen, sounding bored and looking annoyed.

"Alien vessel, you're perilously close to the border of UPP territory. I don't know how the hell you came up on us so quickly without our scanners seeing you, but I don't care. You need to—hold up. You're from here."

"Commander Seth Goddard," he introduced himself a little breathlessly, "Somehow on your doorstep with a crew of citizens."

The Uranian's eyebrows raised in some semblance of interest. "Goddard? The one who went missing with those Starcademy students?"

"Yes."

The officer hummed with appreciation. "Well shit, you actually lived."

Goddard glossed over the cynical comment. "We need clearance to enter border space en route to central command in the Sol System."

"Whatever. You wanna go back there and get your ass chewed, fine by me. It would take a miracle and an amazing feat on your part to save you now."

* * *

They wished for a miracle when they approached border space and caught the transmission of a cluster of patrol ships begging for help about a 5 minute jump away, saying the small fleet was crippled and surrounded by a small group of Spung ships.

"We gotta go help them," Harlan said before turning and ordering Radu to pinpoint their location.

"With what?" Catalina pointed out, "They're better equipped than we are and they're in distress."

"We could distract them?"

"Harlan…"

"Harlan's right!" Rosie chimed in, "We can't ignore a distress call!"

"We can if we're gonna die," Bova replied, "Do you really wanna trip at the finish line?"

All eyes turned to Goddard. He sighed. "There's merit, but no means."

Thelma came shuffling in then, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had been AWOL through an important turn of events.

"Oh, good. You're all unscathed after the skip through the White Circle. Fortuitous."

"You knew we fell in?" Catalina asked, "When you didn't show up, we worried that you were offline."

Thelma shook her head. "Oh no, merely shut down shortly by the Christa. She knew you'd try to avoid the White Circle she generated."

T.J.'s jaw dropped. "PARDON?"

"Oh, well during temporary shutdown, my primary CPU is put into a low powered state—"

"She means the White Circle, Thelma," Bova deadpanned.

"The White Circle is a cosmic phenomenon—"

"For heaven's sake, Thelma, what do you mean by the ship GENERATING it?" T.J. barked, exasperated.

Thelma seemed nonplussed. "She sensed her crew was needed. This is what she was training you for, obviously."

"Since when does the Christa have the ability to generate White Circles?" Seth asked.

"Since the beginning."

The whole crew gave Thelma an incredulous look.

"You. MUST. Be. JOKING," T.J. exclaimed.

"Oh no, singularities are no laughing matter."

"Thelma," Seth started, voice restrained, "If the Christa could make White Circles in the first place, why didn't you say something so that we could have headed straight home?"

"The Christa needed you ready; when she came for her crew, none of you were ready to fulfill the destiny ordained for you. As she is responsible for her crew, it was her duty to get you prepared, and so she had no choice but to send you out where it would be impossible to rely on the UPP to do it for you. She figured you'd need about 7 years to get yourselves together, but it seems you did it in 3, and not a moment too soon, considering the mass of Killcruisers at the border of your UPP outer rim colonies."

Everyone exchanged looks.

"I have so many questions…" Catalina sighed.

"Maybe the Killcruisers first?" Radu suggested.

"I suppose we could distract the ships to allow the UPP fleet to escape, but we'd be assuming they're all in shape to do so," Seth pondered aloud.

"That seems like the hard way to do it," Thelma said, "But you lot seem to like that, so by all means!"

"Unless you have a shiny new solution you haven't yet told us about," Seth ran a hand over his face.

"Nope!"

"Very well. Band, full throttle. Bova, shields at full."

The two young men obeyed while Thelma smiled at Rosie and swayed to the tune in her head.

"You'll fill us in later about the Christa, won't you Thelma? If we outrun the Spung?" she asked.

Thelma nodded. "Oh, yes, Rosie, if you wish to hear about it, the Christa seems willing to let you all in on the plan now."

"Oh. Good."

"I do wonder, though, why you'd prefer to chase the Spung rather than shoot them."

All heads whipped back to the android.

"Are you telling me this blasted thing has guns?!" T.J. shrieked.

"Oh, yes."

"SINCE WHEN?"

"Since the beginning. They only recently matured to a usable state, though."

"Why wouldn't you tell us about them when I asked for a new solution?" Seth said through clenched teeth.

"They aren't new."

"…Nevermind. Mr. Bova, shields at full. Thelma, you have 5 minutes to teach him how to use the weapons system."

"This is madness," T.J. said under her breath.

"A fitting return to the UPP," Seth replied, squeezing her hand in reassurance, "Who else to master an alien weapons system in less than 5 minutes and take on a currently unknown number of Killcruisers?"

"It doesn't always have to be us," she muttered, pouting.

"News has it it's our lot in life," he replied, nodding at Thelma before raising her hand to his lips and pressing a brief kiss on the knuckles while the crew was distracted, "For what it's worth, if we pull it out, the brass might go easy on us."

"Hell of a miracle, that."

* * *

"It would be a PR nightmare if we didn't show some sort of appreciation for your save at the border two weeks ago," Admiral Cody said, voice stern, "They're offering you a chance to take the qualifying exams with consideration for time in space taking the place of field training. It's effectively the last chance you have to enter as Ensigns. Blow it, and there will be no second chance; you're out of Starcademy with no diploma. You will not be welcomed to the enlisted forces. It's a more than generous enough offer, considering. Take it."

The crew exchanged a look, and Harlan nodded, speaking on their behalf.

"Fine. We'll sit them. When you want to do this?"

"Monday."

Catalina started. "That's in three days!"

"If you're half the effective group of cadets you think you are, it should be no problem," the Admiral grinned snidely, "We'll see you Monday."

"Heck of a prize considering we saved like, 200 STARDOG asses and blew 3 Killcruisers out of space," Harlan muttered.

"Welp," Bova stretched in his chair, "Why don't we just fail the first exam right off so we don't have to spend all day taking them?"

"No, screw that," Harlan said, "We're going to pass these damn things."

"You first."

Harlan sighed. "I hate to say it, but I think we have to go beg in this most desperate hour…"

T.J. Davenport stood with crossed arms and smug look. "So NOW we want to study?"

"Please, Miss Davenport," Rosie begged, "We only have three days and if anyone can help us cram, it's you."

"They want us to sit all the final exams on Monday," Radu explained, "We could use the help if we want a chance."

The teacher regarded them closely. "Three days is a tall order."

"Please, Miss Davenport."

She sighed. "Well, I suppose we can make this my last official duty as a Starcademy teacher," she replied, voice bittersweet, "But you meet my conditions."

"Name them," Radu insisted.

"Waking hours are for study. Full attention in class. No pranks."

"Fiiiine," Harlan strangled out, "But only because you're helping us out."

Davenport nodded, satisfied. "Get your compupads, ladies and gentlemen. We're burning daylight."

The night before D-day, she was feverishly making the rounds from student to student as they finished cramming the last of their weakest subjects. She was exhausted mentally, but kept awake and sharp enough by the adrenaline running through her body as she tried to smooth the edges of the students' Achilles heels at the eleventh hour. The students were as frantic as she, eyes focused on their materials.

They had been working well past lights out when Goddard entered, watching the fever pitch continue.

"Enough," he declared, "I'm calling it."

"But Commander-!"

"All the studying won't mean a damn thing if you fall asleep at your desks," he said, "Dismissed, all of you."

"We're not on the Christa," Harlan pointed out, nevertheless standing from his seat.

"Don't care," Seth replied, pointing to the exit to their makeshift study room.

Despite the fact that he had no official authority, the students all obeyed, bidding him sleepy farewells.

After the students left, only the adults remained.

"Well? What do you think?" he asked.

She concealed a yawn behind a hand. "I did what I could. I can only hope they keep it together tomorrow."

He reached out to embrace her and she stepped into his arms, settling there. "If anyone had a real chance at preparing them, it was you."

"Hardly," she muttered into his shoulder.

"I have faith in your skill. The Principal will have an aneurysm burst if they defy expectation."

"That would be gratifying," she grinned.

"Imagine the look on her face if all the students are Ensigns by tomorrow evening."

"Let it be known that if a miracle happens, I prayed for the students' future. The petty revenge was but a byproduct."

He chuckled. "Of course," he said, disentangling himself from her and taking her hand, "Let's put you to bed. I have my own trials in the near future, and I want to spend every moment I can in your presence, even if it just means sleeping."

* * *

The next evening, Seth caught her positively dancing in circles in her temporary quarters, clutching a compupad and near-squealing like a teenage girl with the promise of a first date.

"That happy to see me?" He quipped, drawing her attention to his entrance.

She stopped and regarded him, too elated to be embarrassed at being caught looking silly.

"They actually pulled it off!" She exclaimed, grin wide, "Not only that, but Mr. Radu actually pulled top honors in navigation. Madam Principal must be losing her ever-loving mind." She collapsed on her bed, laughing, holding her compupad to her chest like it was a prize.

"Well, that certainly is a good piece of news to end the day on. I share in your smug gratification; I heard all sorts of comments this morning that no one was confident they'd pass."

T.J. Sighed. "To hell with everyone who doubted them." He watched her stare at the ceiling for a few moments before he caught her wiping away fresh tears.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned for the sudden turn of emotions she was taking. He gently climbed onto the bed next to her, hovering by her to look her in her watery eyes and wipe tears from her cheeks.

"I did it. I taught the once unteachable."

He smiled at her. "I didn't doubt for a moment you could. Firing you was a mistake that Madam Principal will soon realize she's made and will regret utterly."

She nodded. "Thank you. I'm just so happy to hear that all my years with the students were not in vain. I couldn't think of a better note to go out on them with."

He frowned, stroking her hair. "Only the end of you as their teacher. You're still a part of this family as long as you want to be."

She smiled. "Thank you. I desperately want to be."

He kissed her forehead. "I know I, for one, still want you here for when my fate gets dropped in the hands of STARDOG command."

"What do you want me to do for you?" She asked, pulling him close.

"If you have another miracle somewhere in your repertoire, I'd appreciate it. Bare minimum, I thrive off your companionship."

She nodded solemnly. "I'll do all I can for you."

"For tonight, just be by my side."

* * *

He was mildly disturbed when he awoke the next morning to find her gone, but decided that perhaps she had simply chosen to start her day and leave him to rest. He rose from bed, weary and off the high of his crew's triumph. Diplomas were one thing; a commission was another. They still had yet to find out where they would be assigned, if anywhere. As for himself, in a week, he would face a court martial and his inevitable fate. The thought chilled him. Even if it meant coming off needy, he had to seek her out.

Her quarters somehow seemed even more immaculate than usual, and he soon realized why—things were missing. Every day essentials had vanished completely. His eyes widened; surely she hadn't just up and left?

A compupad, left discarded on the small work desk in the corner blinked at him. Accessing it, he saw the note she left him, brief, and to the point.

 _Seth—_

 _I have some last minute business. I will be back before your hearing. Focus on that and don't worry about what I'm up to—boring business anyway._

 _-T.J._

She had said nothing to him about needing to go anywhere. And without that knowledge, he couldn't be 100% certain she would be back in time for the hearing; knowing this, he suddenly felt a whole lot less confident about things working out for him. He felt a little resentful.

 _Curse her, couldn't whatever she needed to run off and do wait? I need her._

He caught himself before he could go on. She owed him nothing of the sort. If she needed to attend to whatever it was to move her life along, she was well within her right to do it.

He sighed. Thinking about where she was and what was in store for him was too much to deal with this morning. If he was going to waste time fretting, he decided he would blow it on the students, who at least had a better chance at something remarkable than he did at the moment.

 _If Space fails me, let it pull out a miracle for them,_ he thought.

* * *

"You wouldn't believe how amusing it is," Catalina had said with a cheeky grin, "I watched them try to get in for two hours before showing them mercy. You should join me in the compost as they try to manhandle the controls; bound to be a blast."

The rest of the crew had taken her up on the offer, all but Rosie there for the schadenfreude.

Well, maybe Rosie was also enjoying it a little.

They sat in the corner of the compost by the jump tubes, sipping on beverages as some of the best of Central Commands engineers tried desperately to get anything in the compost to work.

"Damn alien design," one muttered.

"You, Band's kid," one turned to Harlan, who's eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, "You ran the helm. Unlock it."

"Isn't locked."

"Don't give me that shit."

"Fine, it isn't locked in any manner I can fix it. Ship doesn't want you to use it. Period."

"Give me a break."

Harlan sighed heavily, making a show of crossing the room and using a single finger to tilt the helm controls ever so slightly. The ship tilted gently in the ordained direction.

"The fuck…?"

"I told you—ain't locked. I can move it just fine."

"You'll reverse whatever codes you put in to lock us out. Now."

Harlan laughed. "You think I have any idea how to write code like that? Weren't you the same guys who just yesterday said I wouldn't pass an exit exam?"

"Who CAN let us have access?"

"The ship."

Through gritted teeth, the engineer asked, "Okay, who talks to 'the ship?'"

Harlan sat back down with the crew before calling out for Thelma.

"Yes?" she replied, sliding in quietly behind the group of assigned engineers. All four jumped out of their skins.

Harlan smirked. "Thelma, they want access to the ship's controls."

"Oh, that will not be possible."

"Why not?" one of the engineers said, annoyed.

"Because she doesn't want you to access them. You will try to take her crew from her. She was destined for them, and they've grown on her. She relays that she does not want your filthy hands on her controls."

"What's all this bull about the ship having 'destinies' and 'opinions?'" one sneered.

Thelma shrugged at him, as if the answer was common. "She's a living ship, built by the Lumanians to be a catalyst for peace in their territories and those they wished to explore. The living components are derived from an ancient life source, one tied heavily to the universe. Hence, these ships are intimately aware of the time, space, past and future of those within it. It has been said that each one knows of where it is needed to keep balance, and knows of those they must serve to achieve harmony in the cosmos for the better of Lumanian advancement. Thus, the Christa knew who her crew was from the beginning; her life's work is tied up in them. She refuses to give them up. As she tells me, she is not done with them. And moreso, she says it is inconsiderate to rob her of her family. They are hers; you can go away now."

The crew blinked at Thelma. "Why didn't you tell us any of that before?" Radu asked.

Thelma thought about this. "The Christa just reminded me of it recently, since she's so bitter that these STARDOG engineers are trying to get into her privates and steal her crew. I feel like maybe I once knew, but bits of my memory are missing."

All the crew's gazes turned to Harlan.

"Dammit, Harlan," Bova sighed.

"How was I supposed to know?!"

"Sounds like it wouldn't have mattered," Rosie replied, "The Christa seemed focused on what she considers her mission anyway."

"Indeed," Thelma nodded, "And she won't be turning away from it now. So, to use a turn of phrase from old-timey Earth: 'Best be steppin'.'"

The head engineer sighed. "The brass isn't going to like to hear that they won't have access to this superweapon of a ship. Unless they want to accept the fact that they need these kids to run it."

Rosie perked up. "We could totally do that!"

"Don't push it," the head warned, "Rumor has it that they have at least gotten you all assigned. I wouldn't tempt fate. Be happy with what you got."

The engineering crew turned and left.

"They're actually offering us rank?" Radu said, awed.

"If the rumors are true," Catalina blinked, "It would appear so."

"Maybe your stepfather helped convince Central?" Rosie suggested to Harlan.

"Unlikely, but who knows? There might be several miracle workers behind the scenes."

* * *

James Davenport's wife affixed him with a disapproving glare.

"About time you decided to wake."

He simply smiled at her. "I was up late talking to your daughter."

"Oh? She finally thought to call?"

"On the contrary. She's upstairs now, sleeping."

Alice blinked at him over her tea. "You're not funny, James."

"Well, I'm not joking, dear. She came in last night."

Alice almost looked pleased. "Well, to what do we owe the pleasure of her finally coming back home after being back in the Sol System for several weeks?"

"Business. She was meeting with a few of her old classmates; Thomas Hidel, for one—the one who just took over his father's heavy industries group. Aaron Blakely, of Blakely Armories. Constantin Evers, COO of Martian Planetary Bank. Movers and shakers—it made for interesting conversation."

Alice's face lit up. "Do not tease me like this, James."

"Oh no, it was very interesting indeed. I missed our long talks."

"Not that, you boob. Focus. Do you realize what's finally happening here?"

"Per Theresa, some calculated business moves."

"Our wayward rebel is finally coming to her senses," she grinned, "I thought I might have had to pull her home kicking and screaming to start her life over properly, but here she's actively seeking out a future husband. Miracles happen."

"I think that this short series of meetings leading to a marriage is a bit premature, but I'm on your side—I would hope so."

"Did she decide which one to meet with again?"

"Pardon?"

"The gentlemen suitors. Who struck her fancy? I do so hope it was Hidel—his business would mesh with my father's nicely."

James chuckled. "We're not on the same page here. The only thing that struck her fancy was the ties all the men had to a single source."

"Pardon?"

"Heavy Industries and an Armory? Huge contractor for Mr. Evers' younger brother's employer—namely, the STARDOGS."

"What are you getting at?"

He smiled. "She's trying to use her contacts to turn a few ears at command. She doesn't have the power, but she knows three gentlemen who do. Quite a crafty business woman."

Alice's face fell. "What the hell good are the STARDOG connections? She's not trying to get her job back, is she?"

"No. Bigger fish."

"She's trying to usurp the Headmistress position?"

"Bigger. She's trying to influence a court martial."

The look on his wife's face was venomous. "For Heaven's sake, tell me you're lying."

He shrugged.

She exploded. "I have been trying to get that damn girl to use her brains and assets to drive the family business forward from the day she could talk, and the ONLY time she decides to try a broker a deal is to try and save that damn fool STARDOG Commander? TO WHAT END?"

He grinned. "What, indeed?"

Alice jumped from her seat, storming toward the stairs, "I'm going to have a talk with your daughter."

"Now, now, she's tired. And it's a nice thing she did."

"I don't CARE about NICE! It would be terribly awkward to try and go back to brokering a marriage with any of these men now. She's blown a good future on a military nobody who is going to need a damn miracle even she can't provide not to end up in a damn gulag somewhere!"

"Have a little faith. I think she'll be effective."

"HONESTLY," his wife huffed, taking the stairs two at a time.

"She's going to need a miracle to survive that verbal onslaught," he mused, "Godspeed, my dear."

* * *

It was two long days, sequestered from the public, but he returned in one piece to his temporary quarters. When he did, he found her there, sitting in a chair, reading quietly on her compupad.

"What did you do?" he said by way of greeting.

She looked at him. "Pardon?"

"While you were away to wherever you went. What did you do?"

She turned back to her reading, a small smile illuminated by the screen. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Command seemed suddenly open to not throw me in prison, on the suggestion of a few higher ups."

"Oh? How fortuitous."

"They're not giving my rank back, but they're not busting me further. Someone at Central suggested that it would be bad PR. No one that I know."

"Lucky."

"They want to use the Christa. And they know that they're forced to use the crew if they want access to the weapons and white circle generator. The original suggestion was to place them in the command of some lackey, but they miraculously changed their minds."

She looked up at him. "Oh, that one wasn't me."

"So you did have your sticky hands in this?"

She stood, grinning. "You're welcome, Commander."

"Why didn't you tell me you were off to plead my case?"

"I wasn't sure how successful I'd be. I had to use some back roads to get there, and I wasn't sure that using the business side of the military effort would have any effect on command decision. I didn't want to promise you anything I couldn't deliver."

He shook his head, incredulous. "You're a hell of a woman."

"Don't forget it."

He embraced her tightly. "Thank you. For looking out for me. For staying by my side. Everything."

She returned the embrace. "Certainly. I'd do nothing less for you."

He pulled back, took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. Once finished, he breathed, "I scarcely deserve you."

"Perhaps. But I'll let you have me anyway."

"You do too much for me already," he chuckled.

"Well, I suggest you'd start getting around to paying back the favor," she said, voice sultry.

He kissed her again before asking, voice low and sexy, "How would you like me to start?"

She hummed, then leaned in to his ear to whisper in it.

"English breakfast, hot, no sugar or milk. And perhaps a neck massage."

The mood whiplash startled him a moment before he laughed.

"Your wish is not my wish, but it is my command."

When he had fetched her tea and gotten her comfortable again in her chair, she revisited the topic again.

"While I own my role in helping you avoid a prison sentence or dishonorable discharge, I think you'll be very surprised to hear who exactly secured your new commission, if my sources can be trusted."

His hands worked at the knots in her shoulders. "Oh?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

 _Admiral Cody's sigh was a suffering one._

 _"I trust you're aware that command wants access to the Christa. The capabilities in the white circle generator alone are too good to pass up—being able to move whole fleets instantly is a game changer against a force like the Spung. You're also aware that, despite our best efforts, your ship is determined to foil us. We had to weigh the options carefully, and Central decided that the ends justify the means. We're assigning you back to your ship, with the caveat that it is now a UPP-sanctioned vessel subject to STARDOG rules and regulations. You're accompanying the main fleet on the outer rim near our most highly populated colonies and richest resource stores. You're a support unit out there—I want to make it perfectly clear this is not to be a free for all assignment. You report to your ship's leader, who reports to the fleet leader who reports to me. Got that?"_

 _Catalina was as stunned as the rest of them. "You're serious?"_

 _Cody cleared his throat._

 _"You're serious, SIR?"_

 _"As a heart attack. There are quite a few officers who hate the idea of letting you get away with this, but since we can't shut off the sentient part of your ship, we have to play diplomatically with it if we want to use it to our advantage."_

 _The admiral produced a compupad for each student and slid them across the table at the stunned crew, who began to peruse the file._

 _"Your service contracts. Very tight. Even the most minor infractions will get scrutinized, so DON'T make a mess. You are to follow the orders of your commanding officers to the letter."_

 _"Who's the fleet officer?"_

 _"Rear Admiral Huang. Tough but fair. Your immediate supervisor is Captain Jack Hoades."_

 _Heads shot up to meet Cody's gaze. "Come again?" Rosie inquired._

 _"Since the five of you are the only ones capable of manipulating the ship, the position of commanding officer is flexible. Hoades is unlikely to be fazed by the somewhat disturbing alien atmosphere of the ship."_

 _"What happened to Commander Goddard?" Radu asked._

 _"He's lucky to even still be IN the STARDOGS. His position is up to whatever the committee at his hearing decides tomorrow on day 2. He'll keep his rank, but it's likely he'll get a subpar assignment designed to keep him out of trouble until he retires."_

 _"So Commander Goddard won't be in charge?" Bova asked, face sour._

 _"No."_

 _The crew was stunned into silence. Harlan was the first to make any noise. With a long sigh, he shoved the compupad back in the Admiral's direction._

 _"I'm out."_

 _Rosie audibly gasped, while the rest of the crew looked at him, wide-eyed._

 _"You're out of what?" Cody asked._

 _"This plan. Take your contract. I'm not signing it."_

 _Cody's eyes narrowed. "Let me make this abundantly clear—this is IT for you, Harlan. Your second chance has played nicely into your hands. If you turn this down, your dreams of being a STARDOG are over."_

 _Harlan stared his stepfather down while the rest of the crew held its breath._

 _"Not interested," he finally said._

 _"Harlan," Radu said softly, "What about your Dad?"_

 _"My Dad was an officer loyal to his crew and his superiors. If I became an ensign on the back of everything Commander Goddard did to get me to this point, he'd be disgraced. The only reason I'm even sitting here with a contract in hand is because I'm a competent helmsman and crewmember. And I'm competent because Goddard FORCED me to be competent. The only reason that ship and its crew work as solidly as it does is because of his leadership; I won't have you sending me to the outer rim with subpar leadership, and I sure as shit won't do it if it's a spit in the face to my commanding officer."_

 _Cody pursed his lips. "You're ready to end your career for this commanding officer?"_

 _"Sure am."_

 _"Very well. I trust the rest of the crew could pilot the vessel just as well?"_

 _"No way, I'm way better than any of them at it."_

 _Four sets of eyes narrowed at Harlan._

 _"What? I am."_

 _Cody rolled his eyes. "Navigation and piloting go hand in hand. The Andromedan can pilot," he remarked, shrugging at Harlan, "How ironic that history should turn out like this—the Andromedan student, of all people, replaces you."_

 _Radu looked a little terrified as he turned to meet Harlan's eyes. It was mere seconds, not enough to read anything there when Harlan's gaze returned to his stepfather's._

 _"Couldn't've picked a better guy."_

 _Cody frowned. "Very well then." He gestured to the compupad in front of Radu and the stylus on the table next to it._

 _Radu took up the stylus, marked an 'X' through the page, then returned it the Cody._

 _His voice wavered slightly, but was final. "I'm out too."_

 _Radu felt Harlan's body relax next to his. The Earther reached out to clap a thankful hand on the other boy's shoulder._

 _"We'll get by on three, then," Cody replied._

 _"Two," both Catalina and Rosie replied in unison, turning the compupads away from them._

 _All eyes turned to Bova._

 _"You think I'm going to do all the work on board myself?" he remarked lazily, "Good luck selling me on that."_

 _"You'll have the android," Cody said, exasperated._

 _Bova thought about this a moment. "The idea of having some damn peace and quiet is appealing. And it's not like I have a need for parties and social gatherings and the like. Plus, all the ship's food is my food."_

 _"Glad one of you sees this for the blessing it is. I'm happy one of you has the sense to not waste your barely-earned diplomas."_

 _"No way," Bova replied casually, "I intend on using it as a memento of our great time together. So since I have that, I have no need for another document." He slid the compupad away._

 _Admiral Cody threw his hands up. "I don't know what the hell else you want from us. We've handed you an ideal mission for you on a silver platter and you still won't eat from it."_

 _"We're telling you that we'll sign and literally be your outer rim lapdogs rather than take our ship and jet out of here," Harlan countered, "Give us Goddard, and we sign. I have every intention of going back to the Christa—whether I do it for the UPP or not is up to you guys."_

 _Cody considered this. "Your contract will be extended by 5 years. No eligibility for promotion for 10. Violation of the contract lands you in a brig permanently. Put your balls in a vice grip, Harlan, and I'll let you have your officer."_

 _Harlan frowned. Cody knew he hated restrictions and was calling his bluff. Still, if his trip into uncharted space taught him anything, it was to catch a miracle when I flew by._

 _"Done."_

"They all signed, apparently," T.J. sipped casually at her tea, "Seems you made quite an impression."

Behind her, he swallowed loudly. "Who knew?"

She smiled, putting down her tea, but did not face him. "I will assume you're teary-eyed, but will not look so as to give you the benefit of the doubt. Schrödinger's tears, if you will."

He gripped her shoulder in acknowledgment.

She patted his hand. "Well, I'm sure we've just about spent our luck at this point, but I wouldn't be opposed to an employment miracle of my own. Pray for me, Seth. After the massage, I mean."

* * *

Her friend, Mr. Blakely, noticed it first.

"Tell me more about the file you sent me on Goddard," he asked over a telecom one night.

"I certainly hope you read it before you stuck your neck out for me," T.J. replied, shocked.

"The text? Sure. I don't care about that. I care about the format you sent it in."

"A read-only?"

"An ENCRYPTED read-only. With an exquisite decryption executable file."

"Why else did you think you needed a password?"

"My data jockeys were impressed. Had never seen anything quite like it. Nigh unbreakable code."

She preened a bit. "Well, I did get top marks in most of my computer engineering courses."

"I knew you were good, but…"

"To be honest," she confessed, "I had a bit of insider's knowledge. It's going to sound mad, but I got myself trapped in the alien ship's computer; the Lumanians have their own ways of encryption, and are savvy to the methods of some other deep space species. I manages to mine that information while I was in there. That data is a homebrew mix of Spung, Lumanian, UPP high security, and code from several other lesser-known races. Makes it much harder to figure out how to crack it."

"Brilliant. I want you to write securities for my company and affiliates."

"Pardon?"

"Weapons innovation is a big, dangerous business. I don't want ideas getting into enemy hands—alien or competitor. If my top minds struggled with it, your insight into a new system is what I need."

She blinked at him. "You're joking."

"Hardly. I'll pay handsomely, and you can work from wherever—get off Mars and away from your mother."

"You remember her?"

"No one forgets, but I have also spoken with her recently. She's very interested in pushing you off into a marriage. I suspect she was ready to sell you to me for two cows and a business contract," he chuckled.

"Yes, well, I apologize for that."

"No apology needed. But if you still feel bad, you could simply agree to work for me."

"I'll think on it. Honestly."

"Good. In the meantime, perhaps break the news to your mother that I tend to…prefer the company of men. Unless you have a brother?"

"No. Just me."

"Drat. Well, all's well that ends well. Maybe knowing we're at least collaborating in a business sense will be enough for her. Then you can off and marry that hunky STARDOG of yours."

"Pardon?" she squeaked.

"Dear, please. No one comes all the way to beg the case to a bunch of stuffy businessmen AND comes in close proximity to your mother without having a motive. And I think that motive is waaay beyond a 'working relationship.'"

She blushed. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps my ass. Invite me to the wedding. And maybe consider leaving your mother at home."

"Slow down, we're not engaged and things are far too hectic for that. It won't happen any time soon. And leaving mother at home would NEVER happen."

"Miracles can come true," he nodded, "Well Miss Head Girl, I'll be watching my inbox. In the meantime, I'll have my lawyer draw up a work contract."

* * *

He mentally prepared himself outside the doorway. He'd need quite a bit of resolve to get through the evening. And maybe some liquid courage. As he entered, he noted top-shelf whiskey on display. Perfect. He'd survive this.

His destiny was at the table in the corner. A deep breath, and he approached it.

"Well, well, welllllll," a voice rang out, "The prodigal son returns."

Three sets of blue eyes, all like his own, fixed on him.

"Oh, shit, Seth, you're gray as hell now."

"You've got quite a bit of explaining to do, baby brother."

Sighing, he took a seat at the table, his three sisters focused on him like a pack of wild animals. He was mildly amused to see that they sat in age order—a habit they never broke from their childhood. Miranda, Bex, Celine. Close enough in age that their Aunts had called them "the terror triplets."

"Go on," Miranda waved her hand, "Start with the part where you ended up on that weird-ass ship."

Three shots, two beers, and two hours later, he had summed up the entire affair.

"Well damn. Hell of a story," Bex hiccupped, "Leave out the part with the ship crushing you when you tell Mom."

"She's well?"

"Yeah. She's gonna skin you alive, but she's good."

"I figured I have it coming," he replied, polishing off his drink.

"So STARDOG command actually gave you a job back," Miranda nodded, "That's good news at least. Happy ending."

"Nah, screw that," Celine frowned, slightly tipsy, "I was going to finally get your ass a woman. I want to be an Aunty."

"You're already an Aunty, stupid," Bex reminded her, "Miranda has two kids. Hell, you're a great-aunty."

"Yeah, well, I want some more nieces and nephews. If he goes off STARDOG-ing again, he's going to be celibate until he dies."

"Yeah, well, considering his former taste in women, I'm all for it," Miranda replied, "Remember Laura?"

"Oh my goddd," Celine nodded, "She was psycho."

"C'mon you guys…" he sighed.

"Seth, she was crazy."

"That notwithstanding…"

"And Sarah. Cassidy. Holy Shit, Erin. Ooooh, 1000-megawatt bitch, that one," Bex laughed.

"Mmmm, yeah. That one. Some god awful work there, bro," Celine replied, "You obviously can't be trusted." She pulled out her communications device.

"What are you doing?" Miranda asked.

"I'm setting him up with my friend. Newly single. Very hot. You free Saturday?"

"I don't need your help, Celine," he muttered.

"C'mon. You suck at choosing women. You need my help."

"I don't."

"Stop trying to be single and let me fix you up!"

"I hear she's a little loose," Bex shrugged, "Might turn out okay."

"Heyyyy, that's my friend, you bitch."

"Not interested."

"I didn't think you'd mind a date and a quick shag," Miranda laughed.

"I wouldn't, normally, but the woman I'm seeing might."

All three women silenced, regarding their brother with wide eyes.

Bex recovered first. "Bullshit."

"What?"

"You don't have a girlfriend, you liar."

"I do," he laughed.

"Prove it," Miranda said, "I want names. Pictures."

"And you just got back to boot—how serious could it be?" Celine remarked.

"We've been seeing each other for a while now."

Bex narrowed her eyes at him. "How?"

Celine's gasp was audible. "Oh. My. God. It's that Assistant Principal lady, isn't it?"

He blushed, and shrugged.

Celine slammed a palm on the table. "I KNEW IT!" she crowed, "I TOLD you two that when I came by to grab him and take him to Mom's during school break that I saw them basically eye-fucking each other! Oh my god, apologize, both of you."

"We were not 'eye-fucking'," he insisted.

"Oh my god, you oblivious fuck, yes you WERE."

"Back to present day," Miranda steered the conversation back on track, "You're seeing her? Davenport, I think the name is?"

"That's her."

"How long?"

"A year and a half?"

"She'd better not be a crazy psycho," Bex warned.

"She's not."

"You must send her to us so we can properly judge," Celine nodded.

"I'm not throwing her into this wolves' den," he said wryly.

"How serious?" Miranda asked.

"Pretty serious."

"Like, how 'pretty serious'?" she pressed.

He shifted, pulled an opulent box from his jacket pocket, and tossed it on the table.

His sisters' eyes nearly bugged out of their heads.

"Are you one of those evil triplets sent to screw with us?" Miranda asked.

He burst into laughter. "That's a lot of money for a practical joke."

Bex opened the box and removed the contents, twirling it about in her fingers. "Looks real."

"It's real."

"Seeethhh," Celine cooed, throwing her arms around her brother, "The day has finally come! It's a goddamn miracle, you guys. Our baby brother is a man."

"Don't jinx it," Bex said, returning the ring, "We'll never foist him off into the arms of a responsible adult if you curse it beforehand."

Celine would not be swayed. She continued to hug him in her mildly drunk haze. "I have faith in our stupid, stupid brother. Goddamn miracles happen to even his dumb ass."

Miranda lifted her wine glass. "To our stupid brother."

Bex laughed. "Cheers."

* * *

Rosie sighed, taking in the scene of her two former teachers dancing.

"Aren't they just so beautiful together?" she asked Bova, who stood next to her, lazily taking in the dance floor crowd while he worked on a fully-stacked plate of hors d'oeuvres.

"Not really."

"C'mon, Bova."

"It's just Commander Goddard and Miss Davenport."

"That's Mrs. Goddard, thank you. And they look so good dressed up and so in love. Even you'd have to agree."

"Kinda a little gross, actually."

She swatted him on the arm. "Oh stop. It's so nice to see them get a happy ending."

Bova shrugged.

"I can't wait until they have kids. I'm so ready to be a big sister."

Bova snorted. "Yeah right. I mean, between that crush injury and the fact that he's ancient, if the Commander has a chance in hell, it'd be nothing short of a miracle."

Rosie considered this a moment. She shook her head at Bova. "Don't ruin this for me."

Bova shrugged. "Sorry."

She sighed. "Well, at least make it up to me by dancing with me."

"Do I have to?"

She laughed and grabbed his hand, placing his food on the table. "Yes. C'mon."

He groaned as she dragged him. "If there's a God, I need a miracle."


End file.
